


Larcenous Tendencies

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-05
Updated: 2009-03-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finally gets help for a longstanding problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Larcenous Tendencies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's March 2009 challenge. 
> 
> **Themes/kinks chosen** : kleptophilia: arousal by stealing
> 
> **Author's notes** : Thanks, as always, to Sevfan and Eeyore9990 for their beta-reading assistance. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Larcenous Tendencies

~

It had started gradually. Hermione hadn’t meant to steal, it was just frustrating that all the good books were in the Restricted Section of the library. She knew she was mature enough to handle whatever was there, or at the very least smart enough, but she was only a second-year and so wasn’t allowed in. 

When she found a way to get around that, she’d stayed up all night, wand illuminating the grimoire under her covers as she’d devoured arcane magic theory. A day later she returned the book, with no one the wiser, and the secret thrill she’d felt as Madam Pince had smiled at her, clueless about the fact that a twelve-year-old had taken a book out of her library had hooked Hermione.

Even though the Polyjuice experiment had been a failure, and she’d had to stay in the Infirmary afterwards to recover, the excitement of having successfully snuck into Snape’s storage room and pilfered potions ingredients had made it more than worth the pain of coughing up hairballs for the week. 

As she grew older, Hermione became more careful about what she took and when. Going to the Department of Mysteries had been a priceless opportunity, one that she hadn’t wasted. All those strange bits and bobs... That night, after they had returned, Hermione had fondled her findings and, to her consternation, had become aroused enough to need to touch herself. 

As she lay in her bed in the dark, having brought herself to orgasm, she smiled. Maybe there was more to this than just the physical items she retrieved.

The year of camping, as she called it, afforded little opportunity for ‘collecting’. Her bottomless bag provided the perfect receptacle for carrying her loot, however, and when the war was finally over and Voldemort dead, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, then wondered if anyone would miss some things from Hogwarts. 

No one noticed as she shoved a few items in her bag as she helped with the cleanup, and that night, unbearably aroused from all the collecting she’d managed to do that day, she’d finally cornered Ron, riding him until he was exhausted. 

And so it continued. Many were dead, but many had lived, too, and as the wizarding world picked up the pieces, Hermione picked up items of her own as she travelled about helping with the rebuilding; several spell books, Quick-Quotes Quills, even some jewellery that no one seemed to miss, although Narcissa Malfoy did glare at her every time Hermione was near. Hermione didn’t care. The Malfoys definitely owed her after that stint in their dungeons. 

She knew it was wrong, she even tried to stop, but that only resulted in the urge overwhelming her to the point where she would steal indiscriminately, so she made sure to pilfer regularly, deciding to do it under relatively controlled circumstances rather than when the need overcame her, making her more vulnerable.

Sometimes she would take out her prizes and fondle them, examine each one and recall how she’d got it. The pearls she’d pilfered from Narcissa’s dresser she would occasionally wear when she was alone in her bedroom late at night. They made her feel pretty, and she would stand there for hours sometimes, naked, just stroking them as they draped across her skin, her breasts. She would even wrap the smooth, cool gems around her nipples on occasion.

Someone had to catch her eventually, of course. Hermione knew the statistical odds were high that one day someone would see her take something. She’d talked herself out of sticky situations before, though, and she would again. 

As she lay in bed at night and pondered the possible scenarios where she could be discovered, she would find herself getting aroused, and at times she would even have to wank to relieve the ache. 

When the shoe finally dropped it was nothing like she’d imagined. 

To the surprise of most of the wizarding world, Severus Snape had not only survived but was prospering in the post-Voldemort era. Harry’s impassioned testimony on his behalf, combined with a charmed statement of Dumbledore’s that was delivered to the Wizengamot on the day of Snape’s trial by Fawkes turned the tide, and he was acquitted of all crimes. He was now the prosperous proprietor of an exclusive potions shop in Diagon Alley. 

Hermione loved going to Snape’s shop. First, it had potions she couldn’t find anywhere else, plus, if she were honest with herself, and Hermione always tried to be, it had something even more important. Snape. 

Now that he wasn’t trying to be a double spy, Snape had relaxed, and it turned out that while he really was a sarcastic man, he was also quite amusing. She’d always known he was clever, but now that he wasn’t trying so hard to make people hate him, he was actually capable of real charm. He wasn’t any more attractive, but now, looking at him through adult eyes, Hermione could see a sardonic appeal.

Hermione went to his shop often, but she never took anything without paying, although the thought of doing so made her soak her knickers. 

_What would he do if I stole from him, I wonder?_ she pondered, holding up a beautiful, azure-coloured, hand-blown potions vial. Would he report her to the authorities? Would he agree to take payment after the fact? Or would he insist on a more personal sort of repayment? She shivered at that thought.

“It’s beautiful, is it not?” Snape’s voice purred in her ear. 

Hermione almost dropped the vial. “It’s...yes, it really is,” she choked out. 

“You seem to like this line of vials.” Snape’s fingers closed gently around the fragile glass as he replaced it on the shelf. “I often see you staring at them.”

“They’re exquisite,” Hermione whispered. “I’ve never seen them elsewhere.” 

“I make them myself.” 

“You do?” Hermione stared up at him. “You blow glass?” 

“Indeed.” Snape inclined his head. “Everything you see for sale in the shop I make.” 

“That’s amazing.” Hermione bit her lip. “Do you have more of that wildflower blossom skin lotion by any chance?” 

“I made a new batch last night.” Snape moved away, leaving the faintest hint of sandalwood behind. “I’ll get some for you.” 

The shop was almost empty but for an older witch browsing in the corner, and as Hermione watched Snape walk to the counter, she reached up and slipped one of the glass vials into her robes. Licking her lips, she casually walked to the other side of the shop and browsed there for a minute until Snape returned. 

“Will that be all?” he asked, handing her the already-wrapped package. 

She hesitated. 

“Excuse me,” the old witch said from across the shop. “I need to ask about your Rheumatism Potion.”

“One moment please.” Snape left her at the counter, and Hermione swallowed convulsively as he glided away. Calming her breathing, she waited for Snape as he dealt with his other customer. “This is all,” she said firmly when he returned. 

He nodded and rang it up, accepting her money and returning her change a moment later. 

Almost disappointed, Hermione smiled tremulously and turned to leave. It was dark outside; all of the other shops were closing as she imagined Snape’s was about to once she left. When her hand touched the doorknob, however, everything changed. She jumped as the metal shocked her, spinning to see Snape watching her carefully.

He shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, Miss Granger. I should have thought you would have recognised the Anti-Stealing Charm I have in place.” Glancing over towards the shelf where the colourful glass vials were on display, he continued, “And you could hardly have thought that I wouldn’t miss one of those items.”

Deciding to cut her losses, Hermione smiled. “What? Oh! Oh dear, I slipped one into my pocket by mistake when I was admiring it. I’ll be happy to pay for it--”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Do you imagine I am a fool?” 

“Certainly not,” Hermione replied. 

He smiled. “Good, because those who think me a fool end up realising their error quickly.” He came from behind the counter and, withdrawing his wand from his robes, executed a complicated Warding and Locking Charm. 

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked. “I offered to pay--”

Snape nodded. “And pay you shall,” he said. “I’ve seen you assessing my shop, you know. You come every three to five days, and by my estimation you should have about five containers of wild blossom lotion at home, unless, of course, you use them as gifts.” 

“Maybe I do,” Hermione said, tilting her chin up as he approached. 

“Oh, I doubt that. I suspect that you have been watching me, watching to see what item you’d like to attempt to steal.” 

“Steal? I--” 

“Yes, steal.” Snape was almost upon her now, and Hermione found herself backed up to the door. “It...arouses you, does it not? To steal from people? Gives you a thrill?”

Her breath hitched. “How dare--?”

“I dare, _Hermione_ ,” Snape purred, “because you have just confirmed a suspicion I have had for many years.” 

He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. “What sort of suspicion?” 

His arms were around her, bracketing her so that she was trapped against the door. When she opened her eyes, his face was directly before hers. “Over the years, many have tried to pilfer potions ingredients from my stores at Hogwarts. Only two people ever succeeded. One was Crouch masquerading as Mad-Eye, and the other I never did identify.” 

“I--How interesting,” Hermione whispered, her breathing quickening. “What does this have--?” 

“To do with you?” Snape finished. “Well, you see, the fake Moody brewed Polyjuice, which, as you know, is a difficult potion to make unless one is very good. The other pilferer brewed the same potion. This would have been when you were twelve, Hermione. Now, is there anything you wish to...confess?”

“I don’t know what you--”

“You do, I can see it in your eyes, but you want me to extract the information from you slowly.” Snape straightened up. “Come, we shall discuss how you’re to repay me for attempting to steal from me.”

“I wasn’t--” Hermione gasped as she was Stunned, Levitated off the floor, and floated towards a door that had opened behind the counter. 

“Yes, you were,” Snape murmured, walking alongside her floating and partially petrified body. “And obviously you wished to get caught. Why else would you have tried to steal from me again?”

As she floated along, staring at the ceiling, it transitioned from low slung and wooden into a higher white ceiling. Eventually, she was settled onto a sofa. 

“How did you know that I’d stolen from you before?” she managed when he finally released the spells he’d cast on her. 

He smirked. “Other than because you just admitted it?” he asked dryly. 

She coloured as she sat up and smoothed down her skirt. “Other than that, yes.”

“As I mentioned before, there were a limited number of students capable of advanced potions. You were one.” He sat down beside her.

“Circumstantial.” 

“Indeed, and yet we both know it’s true.” Snape held Hermione’s gaze until she looked away.

“If I admit that you’re right about me,” she whispered, “can we forget this ever happened?”

“Ah, but you don’t want to forget it, do you?” Snape asked, eyes narrowed. “That is why you steal, is it not?” He paused. “Well, and because it makes you wet.”

Hermione froze, then, straightening her shoulders, gazed steadily back at him as she pressed her thighs firmly together. “You’re right, it does. So, what do you plan to do about it? Because threatening me only seems to...aggravate my condition.”

“I see. Well, we can’t have that,” Snape said, tone thoughtful. “Perhaps that’s why you chose my shop, because you hoped _I_ would catch you.”

Her fingers clenched, Hermione said, “May I go now?”

He shook his head. “No. You must be punished for this.”

“Are you going to call the Aurors, then?”

“Certainly not.” Snape’s tone deepened. “This was a personal affront, therefore I require personal payment.” Smirking, Snape leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. “And as this may be the only time that you get caught, it will have to be good. Strip.” 

“How do you know I haven’t been caught before now?”

“You haven’t.” Snape inclined his head and studied her. “You may have wanted to get caught this evening, but you are clever enough to have avoided capture before this. While I suspect you’ve had several close calls, I also suspect this is your cry for help. Perhaps I can help you get over this...addiction.”

“I don’t have an addiction.” 

“Yes, you do. Now strip.” 

Shaking, Hermione nonetheless stood up and began to remove her robes with trembling fingers. When she got to her blouse, she hesitated, and Snape simply raised an eyebrow. Chin high, she undid her blouse and slipped out of her skirt, standing there in just her lace bra and knickers. 

“Did you steal those?” Snape asked.

She coloured. “No!” At least she didn’t think she had, it was difficult to remember sometimes. 

“I see. Remove them.”

She did, and when she straightened up Snape’s look was tinged with admiration and no little interest. Uncrossing his legs to reveal a respectable bulge at his groin, he Banished his clothes and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Hermione straddled him, her breath hitching as his hands cupped her buttocks to settle her against him. “Now what?” she whispered.

“Now we discuss your infractions. If I’m to help you, I need to know details.” He slid his hands up her sides until he was weighing her breasts with his palms. “How long have you been pilfering?”

“Since before Hogwarts,” she gasped, arching up as his thumbs brushed her nipples. “Little things mostly.” 

Snape rewarded her candour by leaning forward and sucking a nipple into his mouth. “Mm,” he murmured around it. “And when you finally got to Hogwarts?”

Hermione moaned as pleasure spiraled from where his lips were tugging to her very centre. “I...I was good at first,” she gasped, shifted restlessly against him. “Everything was so new.”

“But then the novelty wore off,” Snape said, his tongue moving against her breast, tracing irregular patterns. One of his hands had slid between her legs and a finger began working its way inside her. “Mm, very wet.” 

“Yes,” she said, clenching her inner muscles. 

His finger stilled and he pulled back. “Tell me or I stop,” he said. “What did you steal at Hogwarts?”

Hermione groaned as his thumb lightly grazed her clit. “Books,” she managed. 

“Ah, of course. From the Restricted Section, I presume.” He had two fingers in her now and his thumb was stroking steadily. 

“God, yes.” 

“And then you graduated to pilfering my potions storage room?” 

“We needed to know what...Malfoy was planning,” she gasped, practically writhing on his fingers. 

“Indeed, always the Gryffindor.” Snape withdrew his fingers, and lifting her, placed her down onto the sofa. A whispered spell turned the settee into a bed and he leaned over her, spreading her legs wide. “When did it become an ache, a need?” he asked, his cock poised to enter her.

“I took things from the Department of Mysteries,” she confessed as she stared up at him. “Now will you please...?”

Snape thrust firmly and Hermione arched to meet him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as he filled her. “What did you take?” he asked as he moved in and out.

“Time-Turner,” she whispered, bucking upwards as he pressed deeper. 

While he didn’t stop, Snape did shift his head to better gaze into her eyes. “Clever girl,” he purred. “You have the last one in existence.” He drew back and sank inside her again. “You stole from Lucius, too, did you not?” 

“How--?”

Snape smirked. “He suspected, but was never able to prove it. Pearls, I believe?”

Hermione nodded, her breath stuttering in her chest. “They were beautiful,” she admitted. “And they were under rubble. She...has so much; I never thought she would notice.”

“Do you masturbate whilst wearing them?” He reached between them, his fingers unerringly finding her clit. When he stroked her she keened and trembled under him, her eyes closing tightly.

“Do you?” he pressed, speeding up as she tightened around him. “Tell me.” 

“Yes, damn you,” she gasped, eyes opening as her orgasm rolled through her. “Yes!”

Snape thrust a few more times before he stilled, shuddering against her for several moments. As soon as he’d regained his breath, he rolled to the side.

Hermione stretched, a smile curving her lips as she mentally catalogued the deliciously achy places in her body. “So, was your payment satisfactory?” she asked eventually, conscious that he was staring. 

“Indeed,” he rumbled. 

He was still staring so she turned her head and looked at him. “What?”

“When the urge to take something that isn’t yours or that you haven’t paid for hits you again, and it will, come into the shop and I shall scratch the itch.” 

Hermione regarded him for a long moment. “How do you know so much about this, about me?” she asked. 

Silently he sat up, Summoned her clothes, and handed them to her. “Let’s just say I have had experience with those of larcenous tendencies,” he said. 

She dressed quickly, and as she slipped her robes on, her hands brushed the delicate glass vial in her pocket. Removing it, Hermione held it out to Snape. 

He shook his head. “You’ve paid for it. Until the next visit, Hermione.” 

She smiled. “Thank you, Severus. I’ll let myself out.” 

He didn’t follow her, and as she left, she snagged a pouch of dried herbs, smirking. No doubt he knew she’d done so, and no doubt she’d pay. She found she didn’t mind that idea. 

~


End file.
